


Shades of Blue

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Calming Each Other Down, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Disabled Character, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Headaches & Migraines, Post-Season/Series 03, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 00:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: "Some days are harder than others," he murmured, holding her gaze. "Doesn't mean it won't hurt less, but... Well, it gets easier. To be happy. Like they would've wanted."





	Shades of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I only planned on writing one fic for the server's Rarepair Week but, uh, I made this moodboard back in May for an entirely different prompt and it's been bugging me to finish the fic that went with it so. Here you go. This may or may not be related toward my feelings about my own depression that's kicked my ass for most of this year.
> 
> Written for Day 2 of Flarrowverse Shipyard's Rarepair Week ("Calming Each Other Down") and my DCTVGen Bingo Card Square "Disability".
> 
> Note: While this could be read as romantic, this fic depicts Lisa and Cisco in an unspoken queer-platonic relationship. You're welcome to interpretation but this is just the route I decided upon for this fic.

The distant noise of something shattering jolted him awake first, a breathless gasp torn from his chest as sleep faded from his senses. He almost rolled out of bed to grab his gear, put on his suit and blast whoever the intruder was with a faceful of inter-dimensional energy, because that was what you got for disturbing a very nice, restful morning and -

Someone swore, low and unintelligible, and the sound was familiar enough to nag at the back of his mind and stop him in his tracks. It took a longer moment before Cisco realized the ceiling he was staring at wasn't his own.

Oh.

At least he hadn't actually raced out of the bedroom and sprung into attack mode. Not that his rising migraine was any sign of this day getting better.

Cisco rolled out of bed at a slow, normal pace - he seriously envied Barry's speed sometimes, what he wouldn't give to be able to get ready faster than he could snap his fingers together and say, "Tada!" - and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when he felt its greasiness. Right. He'd been planning on showering last night, hadn't he?

_Well, that idea went out the window, huh,_ he couldn't help but think bitterly.

There was another curse - likely from the kitchen. Cisco pulled on some sweatpants so he didn't wander out in Star Wars boxers, gave his hair a much more vigorous tousle, and headed to see what disaster had befallen his poor apartment.

_Not his_, he corrected again, bracing himself as he stumbled into the kitchen. _Dios mio_, he really was scatter-brained today, and he hadn’t been awake for more than a few minutes.

Another pulse from his temples caused him to suck in his teeth. He shut his eyes and shook his head as if that would help him regain control of the leftover ache brought on by last night’s less-than-successful patrol.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Lisa said, and Cisco forced himself to grab the back of the nearest kitchen chair to steady himself as he eyed where Lisa was crouched on the floor. The jagged ceramic around her, pieces painted a yellow that was an eyesore for someone still half-awake, looked like a strange mockery of a salt circle in a horror movie. The only thing missing was a pentagram and someone chanting in Latin.

It was rare to see Lisa in such disarray. Not just with the mess before him, but the unruly bun perched atop her head, the leftover smudges from mascara and eyeliner staining bloodshot eyes. His chest twisted when he realized she was wearing his S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt, the one he’d thought he lost months ago.

_Little thief_.

“S’fine,” Cisco assured her, his voice a little hoarse. “You okay?”

Lisa shrugged. The dustpan in front of her was halfway full of pieces already but she didn’t look like she was in any rush to keep cleaning. “Dropped a plate. That’s all.”

He was tempted to brush by the incident, help her scoop up the remainder of the ceramic plate and leave it be, but there was a familiar tightness in her jaw, eyes glassy. “How’d you sleep?”

She smirked, but the corners of her mouth didn’t quite curl. “Well enough after last night.”

“I’m not talking about _that_, Lise.”

The smirk vanished and she turned away. “Don’t call me that.”

“Hey, I - ”

“I’m not in the mood, Cisco.”

“I thought we agreed to tell each other things like this. You know, be honest with one another?” He tried to keep his tone gentle without verging on patronizing.

Lisa gave a bitter laugh, picking up the nearest yellow shard and waving it at him. There was something in blue, maybe a word, scrawled across it, but he couldn’t make it out with how badly she was beginning to shake. “Yeah, well, honesty isn’t always the best policy. Besides, it’d be rather hypocritical to ask when we both know you didn’t sleep much either. Tell the fucking Flash to stop calling you out in the middle of the night, for god’s sake.”

Oh. So she hadn’t been asleep for that. “It was a street over, and I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“_Cisco_.”

“Don’t change the subject, though.” He rubbed his temples and crouched beside her. “What’s up? Talk to me.”

Lisa just stared back at him, fire in her eyes and hands trembling as she lowered the shard. Cisco fought back a sigh and reached out, grateful when she didn’t jerk away from his touch, taking the broken, garish piece from her grasp. 

It wasn’t a particularly sharp piece, aside from the large point on the left side, shaped like a toddler’s crude interpretation of a parallelogram. He turned it over in his hands, blue letters bright against the mustard yellow shard.

_To Lenny._

“I didn’t realize what it was ’til I picked it up,” Lisa muttered. Something flickered in her gaze when he glanced up, the flames of her determination wavering and giving way to exhaustion. Cisco was all-too acquainted with that tired, defeated sense of grief. “Didn’t mean to wake you, I swear.”

“Lisa.” He set aside the piece and cupped her cheek. She didn’t attempt to pull away but she wasn’t quite relaxing into his palm. Cisco made a split-second decision and took one of her shaking hands in his, ignoring the urge to scrub at the migraine furiously pounding in his skull, remnants of vibing too often. “Hey. There’s nothing wrong with not being okay. Take it from someone who’s been hit by the proverbial bus one too many times.”

“I’m not - ” Lisa closed her eyes and made a noise that came off like a cross between a groan and a growl. “I’m not a child, this isn’t - it shouldn’t be _new_ to me. It’s not _new_. I just...” She glanced at the shard and her nostrils flared. “He’s still fucking _here_ after _years_ but he’s also not and it’s not _fair_.”

His heart ached in sympathy and Cisco thumbed her cheek, light and slow. “I know, Lisa. I know.”

“Like he _deserves_ to be after running off and leaving me alone, galavanting with a bunch of heroes and getting himself killed!” Lisa blinked hard, moisture gathering in her eyes. “Sonuvabitch. Always thinking about himself and dragging Mick into it, doesn’t even _care_ if others get caught in - in the _fallout_.”

“I’m sure he didn’t think about it like that.”

“Never does! That’s the problem!” Lisa drew back from his touch, gritting her teeth as she glared at the shards around them. “He never _fucking does_! And then he leaves everyone else to pick up the pieces. For someone who claims to be so smart, god, he’s so _fucking _stupid and I hate him _so much_.”

“No, you don’t,” Cisco whispered.

Lisa whirled on him. “Don’t you dare claim to know him or me better than I do. That stupid, goddamn - ”

“I do know you, Lisa. And I know what this feels like.”

“_No. You don’t._” She moved to stand, jerking away from some of the shards as her knees brushed them. “He _left_ me, Cisco, like he always does, and I don’t need you to - ”

“Dante.” He had to swallow hard, the name quivering on his tongue, but it had the desired effect: Lisa paused, the haze of mingled fury and grief starting to disintegrate from her eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s lost a brother to some real time fuckery.”

“Right.” Her voice was quiet, nearly inaudible.

Cisco hesitated before reaching out once more, offering his hand to her. Lisa took it with hardly a moment of her own hesitation, still at war with the irritation boiling below her surface. He pressed her hand to his chest, right above his heart.

“I miss him every day.” She tried to pull back but he didn’t let her, pushing on with his words. “Sometimes I hate him for getting in that car, for not avoiding the driver even though I don’t know if he could’ve - maybe he could’ve swerved or sped out of the way or something, I don’t _know._ And it hurts. And all I want to do is punch him because he left me here. To pick up the pieces, as you said.” He nodded to the broken plate. “Maybe more literally than he intended.”

Or maybe there was no literal meaning, no hidden lesson he was supposed to learn by now. Maybe it was that pain was everywhere and every time you thought you were over it, the ache came roaring back, a metaphorical flood crowding you with the force of a hurricane. Maybe the simple answer was that life inherently sucked ass and the only way to get over it was to live it without a care in the world.

And with people who cared, he amended, stroking the back of Lisa’s knuckles. That perhaps was the most important part of the equation.

“Some days are harder than others," he murmured, holding her gaze. "Doesn't mean it won't hurt less, but... Well, it gets easier. To be happy. Like they would've wanted.”

“They left,” Lisa said, fighting every step of the way like she always did. This time, the tears broke free, trailing down the side of her face carving silent paths. “They _left_ us.”

“I know.” Cisco could feel his own throat getting tight, throbbing alongside his migraine. “And it’s okay that it hurts, Lise.”

The nickname snapped something inside her, the fire extinguishing before his eyes as she sagged into him, burying her face in his chest. He didn’t comment on the dampening fabric of his t-shirt, smoothing her hair as he pulled her close. The stifled sobs shook against him and Cisco longed to tell her things would get better, that it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

But they’d agreed to be honest with each other when they started this.

Breakfast could wait. They had a mess to clean up.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me at my DCTV Tumblr @areyouscarletcold. Comments are always appreciated, and have a great day!


End file.
